Wednesday, November 18, 2015

going where the climate suits my weather



Everybody's talkin' at me
I don't hear a word they're sayin'
Only the echoes of my mind


People stoppin' starin'
I can't see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes


I'm going where the sun keeps shinin'
Through the pouring rain
Going where the weather suits my clothes


Banking off of the North east winds
Sailing on a summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone


I'm going where the sun keeps shinin'
Through the pouring rain
Going where the weather suits my clothes


Banking off of the North east winds
Sailing on a summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone


Everybody's talkin' at me
Can't hear a word they're sayin'
Only the echoes of my mind


I won't let you leave my love behind
No I won't let you leave
I won't let you leave my love behind


I won't let you leave -- ...





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From several different directions, lately, that song has been tapping at my consciousness, and strolling through and setting up camp...


"Only the echoes of my mind..."


Someone I knew years ago used to sing that song -- not in Performance Mode, but just singing-around while doing things -- the way people used to whistle tunes casually...and I swear I remember it as, "goin' where the climate suits my clothes" -- but versions of this song whose lyrics I can find, they all say "where the weather suits my clothes" but if you Google "going where the climate suits my clothes" a Grateful Dead song comes up but it's a different song, titled, "Goin' Down The Road Feeling Bad" . . .


Maybe he was mixing up (transposing) the lines from the two different songs ...


The song I'm talking about is "Everybody's Talkin'" -- written by Fred Neil, recorded in 1966; released in 1969.  Sung by Harry Nilsson in the soundtrack to the 1969 film, Midnight Cowboy.


-----------------------------
In 2006 the New York Times called "Everybody's Talkin'"


"a landmark of the classic-rock era."
-----------------------------


Rolling Stone magazine described songwriter Fred Neil as "reclusive, mysterious and extravagantly gifted" ...





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